Part One: The Turning Tide III

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Upon arriving in Zicatela, the lively nightlife beckoned, but weariness guided us to an early night, anticipating a refreshed start. Our accommodation boasted a rooftop terrace, offering a breathtaking panoramic view of Zicatela Beach, stretching from La Punta to Playa Marinero. Under the moonlit sky, we watched the distant colossal waves crash, their thunderous roar a soothing lullaby that night.

My alarm, set for 7 a.m., heralded a bright, warming day. Eager for my beach run, I quickly dressed and headed out. The descent to the shore was rugged, with dilapidated houses and snarling stray dogs marking the path.

Crossing the main road, I was met with a "Behold, Paradise!" moment—a vast, stunning beach. Slipping off my flip-flops, I began my barefoot run. It was a more challenging workout, yet gentler on my joints than concrete. The rhythmic crash of ocean waves, the distant cries of seagulls, and the caress of the morning breeze created a poetic scene. The beach was surprisingly deserted, with few surfers, a stark contrast to the previous day. I later understood this was due to specific tide and wave conditions.

After a satisfying 5km run to La Punta and back, I stopped at 8 a.m., already drenched in sweat and sun-scorched. Realizing my oversight of not bringing water, I was relieved to find 10 pesos in my pocket. My flip-flops, thankfully, were still where I left them. Heading uphill, I spotted a tiendita and, noticing coconuts, asked the lady for the price. "Seven pesos, güera!" she replied. "Deal!" The freshly opened, cold coconut water was an instant delight, quenching my thirst perfectly.

Returning to the room, I found my friend already showering, signaling an early start to our day. After my shower, dressed in beach clothes, we headed to El Cafecito for breakfast and much-needed caffeine. I appreciated their high-calorie breakfast menu for surfers, though we opted for delicious chilaquiles with avocado—ironically, probably just as caloric.




Over breakfast, my friend, an expert on the area, suggested we spend two nights in Zipolite on the Oaxacan coast, with a stop in Mazunte, before returning to Puerto. I readily agreed to his plan.

Back at our accommodation, we settled the bill and confirmed with the owner that our room would be available upon our return. With the deposit left, we embarked on our journey, catching a bus to Pochutla, the nearest large town.

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